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Growing up, I was the epitome of a model student: straight-A grades, a varsity tennis player, and an Academic Decathlon champion. Yet, beneath this polished exterior, I harbored a secret — I was infatuated with boys. I despise the term “boy crazy”! Why is it that no one ever says “girl crazy”? Is it because society expects boys to always be preoccupied with girls? In my household, discussions about teenage romance were strictly off-limits, leaving me uncertain about whether my feelings were typical or not.
Whenever I brought up a boy, even just mentioning a friend, my parents were quick to remind me that dating was off the table until I turned 25. As an avid reader, I sometimes stumbled across books with adult themes, like “The Joy of Sex.” The moment my parents caught wind of my discovery, the book vanished without a trace. Even during family movie nights, if a romantic scene appeared, my mom would fast-forward, standing in front of the screen to shield my eyes. If I positioned myself just right, I could sneak a peek at the fast-forwarded scenes in the reflection of the armoire mirror.
I started high school at just 13, and I couldn’t help but notice the 2,000 students bustling through the hallways, roughly half of whom were boys. A friend from tennis introduced me to her brother’s friend, Alex, a 16-year-old with a car. I was thrilled to go on a date with an older boy who could guide me through the nuances of teenage romance; my previous experience was limited to a single awkward kiss that felt like being engulfed by a drooling alien. Alex picked me up from my friend’s house, where I told my parents I would be. During our outing, my mom called my friend (this was pre-cell phone era), trying to figure out why I was “in the bathroom” for so long. Strangely, being grounded only fueled my desire to see Alex again. However, the relationship soon fizzled out when I realized he was just as inexperienced as I was and unable to navigate the complexities of dating.
At 14, I attended sleepaway camp for the first time. I still can’t fathom how my parents agreed to it, other than the fact that it was a tennis camp, and they wanted me to improve my skills. Naturally, I developed a crush on one of the counselors, Chris, a tall, sun-kissed 17-year-old with adorable blond curls. I was convinced he liked me back. I recently recalled this when I saw news about a Wyoming State Senator who impregnated a girl when he was 18 and she was just 14. If Chris hadn’t recognized that a 14-year-old is still a child, that scenario might have played out differently.
When I was around 16 or 17, I met Greg, a classmate who was a year younger. We clicked immediately. Aware that our relationship wouldn’t extend beyond high school, we made the most of our time together. During school breaks, I would tell my parents I was going to the library, but instead, we would hang out at his house while his single mom worked. She kept a box of condoms on hand and told him that if they ever ran out, she’d buy more without asking questions. I was utterly shocked; I couldn’t imagine having that kind of conversation with my parents. They never really explained the basics of birth control to me.
Now, as a parent, I ponder whether I would have been as infatuated and prone to risky situations (like riding in a car with a 16-year-old driver at 13!) if discussions about dating and sex hadn’t been so taboo. Even at 40, being told not to do something makes me want to do it even more. This is why I indulge in junk food more than I should and stay up past my bedtime!
I am committed to a different approach with my children—one rooted in honesty and openness, demystifying a natural part of life. Recently, a close friend faced an unplanned pregnancy. Although my kids are young, I seized the opportunity to discuss the potential consequences of sex, including the possibility of an unexpected baby that one may not be ready for emotionally or financially, in a manner suitable for their ages. My younger son mistakenly believed that pregnancy was solely a woman’s issue, and I made sure to clarify that it is a shared responsibility. He’s only 7! I assure you, I won’t let him loose in the world until he fully understands this concept.
As my kids approach their teenage years and inevitably have more intricate questions about dating and sex, I want them to feel comfortable coming to me rather than to their peers or, even worse, an adult with ill intentions. I’m laying the groundwork for these conversations now, explaining the mechanics and emotional aspects as they mature. I strive to respond without embarrassment or judgment, ensuring they feel safe to ask anything. I hope this approach will yield better results than hiding books and blocking the TV screen. Only time will tell.
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Summary
This article discusses the author’s experiences growing up in a household where discussions about sex and dating were strictly taboo. The author reflects on how this lack of communication impacted their teenage years and resolves to take a different approach with their own children, fostering an environment of openness and honesty about natural human experiences.